


Sign Along the Dotted Line

by wwaywwardVvagabond



Series: Mars [3]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Allen's left arm is sensitive, Allen's martyr act frustrates Kanda, Assertive!Allen, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Inexperienced Kanda, Kanda's aloof act frustrates Allen, M/M, Masturbation, Porn With Plot, a lot of accidental angst but that's ok bc it's dgm, things happen, what's better than this just guys bein dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwaywwardVvagabond/pseuds/wwaywwardVvagabond
Summary: Kanda wishes he could leave Allen Walker alone. Really, he does. But Walker has a pull as inescapable as gravity, and he doesn't seem to know how to leave Kandabe.In which Kanda Yuu cares a lot more for Allen Walker than he'd like to admit. It leads to awkward situations.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I intended this to be completely different than how it actually turned out and I am sorry
> 
> but also it's fun to explore with Allen "I Grew Up On The Streets" Walker and Kanda "What The Fuck Are Feelings And How Do I Deal With Them" Yuu

There were few descriptions that accurately fit Allen Walker. _Fucking idiot_ was the most apt one, in Kanda’s mind, right up there with _martyr_ and _possibly suicidal_.

The only thing more infuriating than watching the beansprout launch himself forward to protect a lost cause was watching him limp away, smiling, as if it had been a non-issue. The mask he wore so often was pointless and irritating - it made Kanda want to add _compulsive liar_ to the list of unflattering attributes.

Not that there was a list of particularly flattering ones to differentiate from.

Kanda could admit to himself that Walker was by no means a shitty exorcist. That didn’t excuse the fact that the beansprout really should have been dead by now.

Goddamn annoying.

Walker turned to meet Kanda’s intense gaze from where he stood nursing his wounds, a question written plainly on his face. Kanda maintained eye contact for just a second too long, throat tight, before he scoffed and turned away, frowning. He knew Walker wouldn’t be fazed by it, which only deepened the creases of his brows.

Kanda would bet that the majority of the people currently swarming around Walker hadn’t even noticed how the idiot held himself, hiding his pains. They saw his brave face and ate up his words unquestioningly.

This happened on practically every mission. He just wished that his heart would stop lurching every time he saw the dumbass jump into danger without even a second thought.

* * *

 

“Kanda.”

He pretended that he hadn’t been startled by the sudden voice that broke him from his meditation, and scowled.

“Sorry I’m late,” Allen Walker continued goodnaturedly, with that same annoyingly soft smile that he always had. In his left hand he tugged on a long white bandage, wrapping it around his right hand as he prepared for their match.

“Whatever.” Kanda languidly lifted himself from his position on the ground, leveling the beansprout with a coolly unimpressed stare. He picked up Mugen and slung it across his back. “You can drop the act,” he eventually suggested, less than kindly, peeved at Walker’s persistent smile. “It’s just us.”

Almost immediately, like he had been waiting for a cue, Walker’s face faltered, flickering between angry and unsure. Kanda thought, _Much better._

“Are you ready?” he asked tersely, curtailing whatever thought process Walker had been somersaulting through.

Walker blinked, then bristled. “Of course I’m ready!”

With a noncommittal noise, Kanda drew Mugen in a flash and launched toward Walker, bringing the katana down in a sweeping arc aimed directly at his head. Vicious, he allowed a startled Walker hardly a split second to react; Walker just barely managed to dodge and activate Edge End in time to block.

They found themselves at an impasse: Walker gritting his teeth as Kanda continued to bear down on him, their gazes clashing.

“What the _fuck_ , Kanda!” the beansprout demanded, his grey eyes wild and furious. His voice rang in the cavernous training room.

“I thought I asked if you were ready,” Kanda remarked scathingly, looking down his nose at Walker and giving an imperious sniff. Then abruptly he withdrew, leaving Walker to stagger against the empty air and seethe. Kanda turned his back to him, making a show of resheathing Mugen, knowing that it would only infuriate the boy further. _That should do it._ “Stop fucking around, Moyashi,” he said.

He anticipated the retaliatory lunge that came soon after, and he spun around to meet him, Mugen resonantly stopping the advance of the shining white broadsword. “Does this look like fucking around to you?” Walker challenged, unrelenting. His hair was already coming undone from its low ponytail, sticking out in every direction and framing his face like an invitation. There was a light, angry flush high on his cheeks, his gaze boring into Kanda, and if Kanda’s heart ceased to beat for a moment, he would never admit to it.

“Yeah, it does, dumbass,” Kanda shot back, pushing him away without too much difficulty. “You keep relying on the skills you had with your arm, except you don’t have your arm, you have a _giant fucking sword_. Now act like it. We’ve been over this.”

“And some teacher you are,” countered Walker, irate, holding his broadsword out as if he were going to brandish it. He was leaving himself completely open to attack.

“I already _told_ you - _and Komui_ \- that just because I have a sword doesn’t magically make me an expert on all swords! The only way you’re going to get better is through experience, so it’s not my fault your form is so shitty.”

“Whose form is shitty, BaKanda?” Walker was visibly tense, ready to surge forward to attack again.

Kanda just sighed and took a short step back, his hands half raised; the other boy paused, puzzled.

“Stop being so loud, idiot, and just listen to me,” Kanda said, ignoring the way Walker’s hackles raised at that. “Your balance is off. You always need to keep one leg behind you to counterbalance. The sword _should_ be an extension of yourself, but you’re acting like it’s still _attached_ to you.” He looked Walker up and down with clinical interest before scowling again. “And I said to drop the nicey-nice schtick.”

Walker frowned. “What does that even _mean_?”

“The fake manners and polite shit. You’re still doing it. You’re trying to play by the rules of ‘classic swordsmanship’ or whatever. What’d you do, try to read about it in a book?” By Walker’s sheepish expression, that’s exactly what he’d done. “Idiot. That shit’s not real. In a true fight, you’re allowed to be dirty - and I know that you know exactly how to play dirty, so don’t even try to fool me.”

Walker was visibly torn between considering Kanda’s words and refusing them outright just because they were uttered by Kanda - which should have been more irritating than it was, but at this point it was simply another facet of their relationship, their constant twin orbit.

“Okay,” Walker finally said, and that was as close to a thank-you as Kanda was going to get, so he accepted it unblinkingly. He watched Walker shift his weight from foot to foot. It was almost perfectly in sync with Kanda’s heartbeat.

“Che.”

The next time they met at the center of the practice room, Walker feinted and parried and lunged furiously, and it actually took some bit of work for Kanda to keep up with him. _Better. Far better. Good, Moyashi._

Things got more difficult once Walker figured out that _playing dirty_ also meant that he could make use of Clown Belt, but luckily for Kanda he knew Walker’s fighting patterns well enough to block.

They were infuriatingly evenly matched for the better part of the next hour; Walker was panting, and there was sweat that beaded at Kanda’s hairline. His pulse had been climbing steadily for the past fifteen minutes, which was right about the time that Walker had begun panting, and Kanda refused to believe that the two were in any way related.

He was getting annoyed that neither of them were gaining any traction. There was a point - once a match became a deadlock - that the whole thing lost any fire, and they had reached it. They scowled at each other. Walker set his jaw determinedly, wiped his mouth, and bent his knees just slightly. Kanda knew that look. He prepared to block on his right side, following Walker’s line of sight.

Walker darted forward. Kanda made the mistake of blinking - just a rapid flutter of his eyelashes - and suddenly Walker was no longer in front of him. As Kanda whipped around he managed to only catch a glimpse of Clown Belt reaching towards him and the glint of the broadsword before he was incapacitated - a tendril of Clown Belt had caught hold of his long hair and pulled his head back so that Walker had easy access to his throat, holding him in place from behind.

Except, of course, it was hardly so easy, because that was just how Kanda’s luck worked.

Walker tugged at his hair, eliciting a shock of pain quickly followed by something much more confusing, and Kanda _moaned_ , breaths shallow. He arched upward into the empty air and nearly nicked himself on the broadsword that now wavered uncertainly.

“K-Kanda?”

He was sure his face was bright red with humiliation. He pulled away, dizzy with bloodrush, and Walker relented easily, releasing him and deactivating his Innocence. “We’re done,” Kanda said harshly, refusing to look at Walker, chest tight with anger and mortification. He sheathed Mugen and strode away, fighting the urge to run, his heart pounding, his scalp still smarting.

Walker called after him, “W-wait! Kanda, I’m sorry! You - I didn’t - Kanda please, I’m sorry -”

“I said we’re done.” Kanda was fairly certain he knew exactly what expression the stupid beansprout was wearing (lips parted, eyes wide and earnest), and he hated it. His stomach clenched. He left Walker alone in the empty training room.

He needed to take a cold shower and forget this ever happened.

* * *

 

Following the sparring incident, Kanda made a mission out of ignoring the beansprout. He wasn’t _avoiding_ him, because that would mean that he was embarrassed - or worse, scared - to confront him. It was simply that Walker was annoying, and there was no reason to engage with him or even look at him.

“Ah - Kanda -” Walker tried, once, catching him in the hallway. “Did you want to -”

Kanda shoved past him with an ungracious _humph_ , pretending he didn’t see the hurt that flashed across Walker’s face.

“Fine, be that way, you dick!” the beansprout called after him, voice terse. Kanda heard him storm off. It didn’t evoke the usual feeling of bitter satisfaction. It mostly just felt bitter. Kanda stamped down the abrupt vice of guilt.

In the cafeteria he would occasionally catch glimpses of cool grey eyes, watching him from behind mountains of food and stark white fringes. The first few times, Kanda fell victim to impulse and met his gaze. For a long heartbeat they would stare unblinkingly, ignorant to the chatter around them, until Kanda remembered himself and turned away with a huff.

He scowled into his soba, as if maybe it was the soba’s fault that his insides felt like the latest of Komui’s scrambled science experiments, like he had been scooped up by Komurin Mark V and had come back out disoriented and all wrong.

After that, it was easier to pretend that Walker didn’t exist - or, more accurately, it was easier to deny the urge to look every time Kanda caught a glimpse of pale hair and mismatched arms.

Eventually he stopped seeing him out of the corner of his eye altogether, which was good, because he’d been growing uncertain of how many times he could handle the ever-so-slight quickening of his pulse every time he spotted Walker.

* * *

 

He was glad when he saw neither hide nor hair of Allen Walker for a good while. At least, he _was_ glad, until that good while stretched into two weeks. Two and a half. He told himself that the faint feeling of nausea roiling in his gut was irritation instead of anxiety.

“Lenalee,” he finally said one night at dinner, caving, cursing himself because he couldn’t leave the damned beansprout _be_. She broke away from her conversation with Lavi and turned her attentions to him, quizzical. “Where’s the sprout?”

She frowned, confused. “You didn’t know?” The sickness festered. “He’s on a job with Krory and Link in Malta. Although… it is taking him a bit longer than it should have…” She looked troubled.

Having no idea how else to react - they’d never bothered to train him in how to handle _emotions_ \- Kanda just scoffed around the acrid uncertainty that stung his throat. “Because he’s useless. Maybe he finally got himself killed.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say, Kanda,” Lenalee reprimanded, “and you know it.”

He did know it. The not-worry that gnawed at him was making him short-tempered. “Whatever. _When_ he comes back,” Kanda said, so that Lenalee would stop being cross with him, “I’ll teach him a thing or two about taking so damn long on a mission.”

Headquarters got the call from Link later that evening: Allen Walker was alive, but hospitalized. Severe lacerations, Link said. Krory was apparently beside himself with grief because he insisted it was his fault that Walker was gravely injured, which Kanda took to mean that Walker had pulled one of his self-sacrificing stunts. Again.

“Fucking idiot,” he swore, vexed and nervous all at once, loudly enough to earn dirty looks from a few coworkers. “...Che.”

Lavi glanced at him. “Yuu,” he started, “you’re not worried, are you?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “And no, I’m not. The beansprout can go die for all I care.”

The junior Bookman studied him carefully, and Kanda actually felt sweat bead at his nape. It was easy to forget just how piercing his gaze could be. Then Lavi’s face split into a shit-eating grin. “You totally are,” he called out. “Just admit that you care for Allen, too.”

 _Like hell._ “Like hell,” he said aloud.

Lavi just shrugged, his sly smile suggesting he knew something that Kanda didn’t, which was plain annoying.

* * *

 

Walker made it back to Headquarters a few days later, his return heralded with a gigantic “welcome home” party organized by Johnny and Lenalee. Most of Headquarters had attended, crowded together at the center of the room, leaving Kanda to brood silently in the corner.

A sloppily painted banner reading “WELCOME HOME, ALLEN” hung above the arched doorway; Walker’s bandaged chest heaved as he looked out at everyone that had taken part in his “glad you’re not dead” celebration.

“Thank you, everyone,” he said tearfully, eyes skimming around the hall.

Kanda snorted cynically - which was a mistake, because Walker’s gaze locked on him immediately. There was surprise in the younger boy’s face at seeing Kanda there, tucked away in a corner, secluded from the other party-goers. When their eyes met for the first time in several weeks, Kanda allowed them to hold. He didn’t dare blink. Walker’s surprise easily melted into a bright, sunny smile, as if everything were right in the world; Kanda’s heart skipped a beat, just barely, and at some point he hoped his eyes said what he couldn’t. Their staring was beginning to draw the unwanted attentions of other people, particularly from Lenalee and Lavi. Kanda scowled in self-defense, turning away from the beansprout. Distantly he heard Walker chuckle; something fulgent curled up tight and vine-like around his heart.

And just like that, they fell back into their old, familiar patterns.

* * *

 

He remembered the first time Walker fell out of contact with the Order. Kanda had been on the road to Edo at that time, keeping close to Tiedoll and Marie, trying to purge the vision of Daisya’s body from his mind. Most nights passed perfunctorily, ending with a cursory call to Headquarters to confirm that Tiedoll remained in one piece.

There was a single night still perfectly ingrained in his memory.

“Wait, Kanda,” Komui had urged, intent in that way of his, before Kanda disconnected his golem from the telephone. He paused. There was a sigh on the other line. “There’s… something you should know.”

Kanda wanted to tell him to hurry up, then, he didn’t have all night - but something in Komui’s voice stayed his tongue.

“We’ve received word from General Cross’s team.” Komui’s words were halting, as if he was attempting to speak around something caught in his throat. “Allen Walker is… gone.”

Kanda exhaled, staring ahead blankly. “...Gone?”

“He’s dead, Kanda.” Kanda’s mind went blank. There was a heartbeat of silence between them. “Timcanpy’s last recording of him… He was attacked by a Noah. It’s… probably the same Noah that -”

Komui kept talking, but Kanda had long stopped listening. He was frozen in place, knuckles white as he gripped the phone; his blood felt like ice in his veins. _The beansprout - Allen Walker’s - dead? But - that’s -_

He hung up on Komui mid-sentence.

“Is everything alright, Yuu?” Tiedoll asked from where he sat with Marie.

Kanda told him. He didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

The next time he actually felt his heart thaw and pump was when he saw a Noah clutching Lenalee, his hand around her throat, and Kanda launched.

_Are you that cheating boy, Allen’s, friend also?_

Kanda saw red. _As if I care what happens to that beansprout_ , he’d spat. Well. Not, perhaps, strictly true. But it hardly mattered anymore.

All he’d known was that he was going to kill this guy. He’d dared to touch Lenalee. Some secret conviction told Kanda that he’d killed Walker.

Looking back on it, it was perhaps then, with the thunder of blood loud in his ears, that he’d realized he really -

That was stupid.

* * *

 

For the span of his recovery period and then a bit longer, Howard Link hovered close to Walker, always peering over his shoulder and, more annoyingly, peering around at everyone else. Kanda couldn’t even get close to the beansprout - not that he particularly wanted to, mind you - without engaging in a stare-down with the Inspector while Walker continued on obliviously.

Something hateful and sour flared beneath Kanda’s solar plexus every time he saw Levellier’s trained dog - trailing after Walker like a bloodhound who’d caught wind of his condemned target, constantly sniffing around things that _didn’t_ need to be investigated. His only purpose was to find grounds on which Central could prosecute Walker. Pathetic, detestable.

Kanda thoroughly enjoyed thwarting Link’s plans every chance he got.

Sometimes he had to settle for something a bit more petty, and he bumped Link’s shoulder when they passed each other in the corridor. Walker looked something between irritated and amused - like he wanted to laugh in spite of himself, and it was weirdly satisfying.

Kanda decided that he wasn’t going to analyze it.

He made an effort not to look too pleased whenever Link was sent away, but he could admit to himself that it was nice not to have to move under the narrow scrutiny of the Inspector every time he entered his usual satellite orbit around Walker.

* * *

 

“You were reckless.”

On the other end of the couch, Walker shifted uncomfortably under Komui’s stern gaze. Kanda snorted, which earned him an icy stare.

“You both were.” Kanda ignored Walker’s pointed Look. After a few long moments, Komui sighed and pushed his glasses farther up his nose. “You have to realize… we can’t afford to lose anyone. Especially not you two.”

Kanda clicked his tongue. “I did what I had to. It’s the Moyashi’s fault we’re here in the first place.”

“It is not!” Walker retorted. “It’s your fault for getting into trouble, stupid Kanda!”

“I wasn’t in trouble, dumbass, I was handling things just fine on my own!” Kanda spat. “Maybe if you didn’t need to satisfy your fucking hero complex, I wouldn’t have needed to pull your ass out of there! But no, you always have to do stupid shit, don’t you?”

“You were almost dead, you dick, I was helping you when I felt that you needed it! I didn’t need you to pull me out of anything!”

“Idiot, did that Akuma melt your brain after all? Did you forget about my healing factor? I wasn’t about to die. Stop being stupid.”

“Yeah, because God forbid anyone worry about you!” Walker threw up his arms. “I don’t even know why I bothered! So sorry to save you from a painful death that you would have _unfortunately_ come back from!”

“That’s right, because then I wouldn’t have had to go out of my way to rescue your useless ass!”

“I never asked you to!”

“Well, I never -”

“ _Stop_.” The command was delivered like a slap, sudden and stinging. Komui cut an imposing figure, his back ramrod straight with his fists clenched at his sides. Then, all at once, he collapsed into his chair, like a puppet with its strings cut, as if raising his voice had sapped the last of his strength. He massaged his temples in exasperation. “Just… be more careful in the future, okay? You are both skilled exorcists, but the Earl is getting craftier each day, and you cannot let yourselves fumble even once.” He leaned back, his upholstered chair squealing as he went. “That being said, I wanted to congratulate you on your recovery of the Innocence. I know it was tricky.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kanda could see Walker flash a bright, fake smile. “I’m sorry, Komui,” he said, “we’ll definitely do better next time.”

Kanda scoffed and scuffed his boot on the ground; Walker shot him a brief, nasty look.

“Well,” Komui said hesitantly, missing none of it. “See that you do. Now go get some rest, you two.” He flapped his hand, shooing them from the office, already turning his attentions away and murmuring to himself about needing coffee.

Kanda shoved past Walker at the door, ignoring the irritated growl he received in response.

In the hall, Lavi and Lenalee halted their conversation to turn to them, anxious. “How did it go?” Lavi pestered. “What did he want?”

“Tch. Move.” Kanda kept walking, pushing beyond the small group, feeling annoyed at even the thought of socializing. He just wanted to get back to his room.

“Kanda?” Lenalee called after him. “What’s wrong?”

He ignored her.

There was some murmuring among the group behind him. “I’ll catch up with you guys soon,” he heard Walker say quietly.

Then footsteps followed Kanda down the hallway, light and quick. Kanda groaned inwardly. Of course the beansprout wouldn’t mind his own damn business. His chest felt restless.

“What the fuck, Kanda?” Walker demanded once the other two were out of earshot.

“Stop following me.”

“Pull the stick out of your ass,” Walker snapped. He sped up to match Kanda’s long strides, keeping pace even as Kanda walked faster, eager to be rid of his eternal headache incarnate. “You’ve had a problem with me for days,” Walker continued, stepping close. “Now tell me what it is.”

Kanda drew to a halt, glaring at Walker from beneath his bangs. “You know what it is.”

“Maybe you should _clarify_.”

Fist clenched, Kanda grit out, “You’re so fucking annoying. Just leave me alone.”

“I didn’t leave you alone then, and I’m not going to do it now.” Ignoring Kanda’s long-suffering sigh, Walker continued, “Is this still about the mission? What, did helping you _hurt your ego_?”

“No,” said Kanda, his jaw tight. “I just hate people like you. You think you’re so special and entitled that you try save everything, even the things that don’t need saving. You’re going to get yourself killed. Just shut the fuck up and do your job and leave me alone.”

Walker bristled. “I won’t get myself killed. I just want to save as many people as I can!” He collected himself, retreated a few inches. “You were getting hurt. _So sorry_ that I wanted to help you to _not be in pain_.”

Something in Kanda’s chest seized, a swell of emotion rising; as it crested he felt himself surging forward, the buildup and release as sudden as the snapping of rubber. There was a crack as the back of Walker’s head slammed against the stone wall, and he gasped at the abrupt pain.

“Ow, _shit_ , Kanda, what the hell is your problem? Let me go!” Walker snarled, fighting against the hands that pressed him to the wall.

“ _You’re_ my problem,” Kanda ground out, his face hovering close to Walker’s. “Why can’t you just leave things _be_? You could have _died_ for _no fucking reason_.”

Walker’s white lashes fluttered as he blinked up at Kanda, his brows furrowed. “Yeah? And what does it fucking matter to you?”

“Your whole ‘destroyer who can save’ gag is damn stupid, you know that? What’s the point of trying to save so many people if you’re just going to throw yourself into danger instead?” He started to lift his hands from Walker’s shoulder’s, ready to leave him there. “Che. Dumbass.”

“You didn’t answer the question, BaKanda,” Walker snapped, grabbing hold of Kanda’s forearms with iron fingers. Before Kanda could register what he was trying to do, Walker pushed off of the wall and flipped them around so that Kanda was the one pinned, Mugen digging in between his shoulder blades.

“Fuck - Moyashi -”

“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you leave _me_ alone?” Walker’s lips were dangerously close, and Kanda found that it was a struggle to stay focused.

“I’m the one that has to clean up your mess, because you’re too damn incompetent,” he retorted, scowling, trying to compose himself. “Fucking - let me _go_. We don’t have anything else to say to each other.” He shoved against Walker, but the hands that held him in place were unyielding. His breaths were getting - almost imperceptibly - shallower as he stared at Walker, and there was a stirring in his lower abdomen that was most untimely. It took considerable effort not to fidget, and he, of all people, never _fidgeted_.

 _Walker is really... pretty_ , Kanda caught some part of himself thinking distantly, distractedly.

“Kanda,” Walker said, commanding his attention. His grey eyes bore into Kanda, fiery and demanding. “I know that your seal won’t work forever. I just wanted to help you. That’s not going to stop, no matter how much you complain about it.”

“Fuck off,” Kanda said, rather weakly. The idea of shoving Walker off of him was beginning to drift helplessly away as he continued to inch closer. Blearily, Kanda wondered if it was his imagination that made his pupils look blown. They were suddenly sharing the same air - a gentle exhale crossed the too-small gap between them, ghosting from Walker’s parted lips across Kanda’s cheek. He shivered under the weight of Walker’s gaze.

“I think you knew that I didn’t need _saving_ ,” Walker said, voice tight, his fingers a vice on Kanda’s arm. Kanda was too dazed to recall his indignation, his body leaden as he braced himself against the wall. Walker’s body was unnaturally warm in contrast to the chill at his back. “And maybe you didn’t need it either. But I will always help you, no matter what.” Walker’s expression softened; a breathy laugh escaped him as he bent his head close, like they were sharing a private joke, but the nature of it was lost on Kanda. “Maybe we work well together.”

He was about to protest - because what the fuck did that even _mean_ \- but something in the creases by Walker’s eyes and the curve of his lips made him pause. All complaints lodged themselves in his throat and died; he did his best to swallow around them.

His blood thrummed with adrenaline and desire. Walker was _really_ close.

There was movement, a tentative rustle of cloth; then Walker’s mouth was on his, soft and careful and his lips just slightly chapped. Kanda made a small noise of surprise - all thought ground to a screeching halt, leaving him floundering somewhere between vague feelings of _what the fuck_ and _finally_.

His eyes shuttered and closed despite himself; after a hesitant moment, he pressed back, losing himself in the uptake, lifting up from the wall to get a better angle. He could barely remember why they had been fighting in the first place - the only thing that mattered was the gentle warmth of Walker against him.

But abruptly Walker withdrew, and Kanda, still reeling, found himself yearning for the lost contact.

He almost chased it. Almost.

A bright blush was creeping up Walker’s cheeks, and despite his hungry stare he started to relinquish his hold on Kanda. He was retreating back into himself.

“I’m…” He licked his lips. “I’m sorry, I don’t…”

_Wait, what -_

Breathless, somewhat frantic, Kanda caught hold of Walker’s arm before he could say any more and pulled him back in for another kiss, searing and insistent. Walker melted into him, exhaling deeply as he accepted what Kanda couldn’t voice aloud, taking fistfuls of Kanda’s coat as he went. Kanda clung to Walker’s arms, having no idea what else to do with his hands, eyes again fluttering closed. There was something profoundly _right_ about this, about falling into the scope of Walker’s glow, and Kanda let it happen, his mind too blank to assess it.

He could feel himself getting pressed further into the wall by an emboldened Walker - against his better judgment, Kanda gave in. Walker gave a little hum against his mouth, a pleased sound; Kanda swallowed the moan that had been steadily rising in his throat.

Walker edged his lips farther open little by little, letting his teeth graze Kanda’s bottom lip before giving a swipe of his tongue. Kanda relented, parting his mouth just enough for him to deepen the kiss. His knees felt weak, his inexperience made him clumsy; he kissed with the same furious desperation he’d suffered when he saw Walker there, bloody, surrounded by Akuma, and he’d fought with everything he had to get to him.

Walker’s kiss was sure, and he accepted Kanda with aplomb. Kanda’s pulse quickened.

Walker shifted and slotted his leg between Kanda’s thighs, and Kanda stilled with a sharp inhale, seeing stars. Heat coiled and flared at the base of his spine; overwhelmed by him, Kanda found it exceedingly difficult to breathe.

Walker didn’t even give him time to recover from his disorientation, coaxing him back into the kiss with incessant caresses. He relaxed his hold on the front of Kanda’s coat to splay one hand on the wall beside him, and slid the other to cradle his jaw. Kanda settled his hands on Walker’s hips; he tugged him closer, feeling the warm press of his slight body, barely maintaining what semblance of control he still had. With each push of Walker’s lips, a shock of energy coursed through his bloodstream, picking its way through him until he was a burning fuse, just heartbeats away from flaring up.

He tilted his head downward to reach Walker; Kanda had left his hair exposed, which Walker was quick to take advantage of - moving his hand from Kanda’s jaw, he carded through the dark hair before unabashedly taking a fist of it. Kanda gasped into Walker’s mouth, back arching and breaking from the kiss with an obscenely wet sound, toes curling before he could stop himself. He recovered slowly, his gasp becoming a throaty growl; he bit down on Walker’s lip, which finally drew a small but gratifying whine from him.

Walker broke away to catch his breath, puffs of air fanning across Kanda’s face. Breathing hard - the noise too loud in the narrow, quiet space between them - Kanda opened his eyes to meet Walker’s half-lidded gaze. From this close, he could pick out the light freckles scattered like constellations across Walker’s nose. His whole body thrummed with restless electricity, and he leaned heavily on the wall to support himself, resisting the tug of Walker’s unrelenting gravity.

Walker pulled completely away after a moment, his flickering eyes widening steadily, visibly shocked. “Kanda…” he murmured, almost wonderingly; then he shook his head, soft white hair bouncing. Kanda continued staring. “I’m sorry,” Walker said, cheeks stubbornly pink, “I don’t… I don’t know what I was thinking, I…” He backed off. “Um.” Their eyes held. “...Goodnight, Kanda.”

He stumbled over himself, once, as he retreated in the direction of his room.

Kanda stayed pressed against the wall, the blood hot and hammering in his ears, breath unsteady. The air before him was cold and empty with Walker’s absence; he blinked away the dizziness. He could still feel the burning echo of soft, plying lips, the insistent fingers tugging at his coat. His hair, he knew, was a mess - he looked utterly debauched with his loose ponytail and rumpled clothing. His parted lips thinned and curved into a scowl as he painstakingly pulled himself back together. “...Che.” _Fucking typical_. He eased away from the stone wall, willing away the heat that still lingered, and needlessly readjusted Mugen’s strap just to do something with his jittery fingers. Sparing a glance down the hall, he turned and strode the opposite way, toward the showers.

* * *

 

The idea of warm water instead of cold was undeniably inviting, and before he could think better of it, he was stepping into the tepid spray with a relieved sigh. The pound of the streams across his shoulders gradually unwound the tense knots that had taken root. He carded through his long hair, letting his eyes flutter closed.

The image of stormy grey eyes rose unbidden behind his lids, watching him, and Kanda’s breath caught. _He couldn’t just leave him alone, could he?_ The ghosts of kisses peppered along his jaw, his mouth, his neck; his lips parted so that he could breathe easier. _Fucking Moyashi…_ His pulse thundered beneath his skin; it beat against his ribs; he could feel it jump in his throat, his chest, between his thighs. His hand crept traitorously downward - and Walker was there, kissing him, pressing their bodies together as he had done only minutes before, phantom limbs entwining with his.

The fat rivulets of water that coursed down his arms and sides were Walker’s fingers, just as urgent as they were reverent. Kanda rested his head against the metal piping of the shower, biting his lip. Following Walker’s movements he reached back and tugged at a lock of his hair, inhaling at the muted twinge, and moaned softly. Despite the shower’s relaxing warmth, the raw heat in Walker’s eyes made his abdominal muscles tighten, and goosebumps rippled along his nape.

His fist curled against the tiles, white-knuckled. The harshness of his breaths was lost amid the steam, curling upward and disappearing.

* * *

 

Kanda didn’t even have to try to avoid Walker this time. He didn’t see so much as a hint of the beansprout for two days - and it’s not as if he was _worried_ , exactly, only curious, especially once he’d inquired after the younger boy to Lenalee and the Junior Bookman, both of whom were equally clueless. It wasn’t as if Komui had sent him on another mission yet.

They also happened to both be equally curious as to why Kanda was even asking, to which Kanda proffered only his back as he walked away.

After poking around for a bit, he managed to get Johnny from the Science Division to admit to having seen Walker in the training room at ridiculous hours, and that he ventured out to the cafeteria at even more ridiculous hours. For the first time, Kanda was something close to grateful for the scientists who stayed awake for every hour of the day.

He wasn’t worried about him, he continued to tell himself. He wasn’t.

On the second night there was a hesitant rapping at Kanda’s door, disturbing him from his nightly meditation. He answered the door with a scowl.

Allen Walker had, apparently, decided to emerge from hiding.

Ignoring the mild quickening of his heart, just another annoying side effect of Walker’s proximity, Kanda kept his face carefully impassive. They watched each other for a few seconds, gauging each other’s reaction; Walker shifted from one foot to the other, chewing on his lip, visibly mulling over his words.

Silent, Kanda opened the door all the way and just stepped aside, tacitly inviting Walker into his room. Whatever was lingering on Walker’s tongue, it obviously wasn’t something he wanted overheard.

“What do you want,” Kanda deadpanned, once he’d swung the door closed.

“I… I don’t really know,” Walker admitted candidly. He scratched at the back of his neck, sheepish.

Kanda rolled his eyes. “Then why are you _here_.”

“I don’t really know,” Walker said again, quieter. He continued, “I was just… walking, and I wound up here, and I suppose that’s fine because I wanted to talk to you anyway, but I don’t know what to _say_ -”

 _Well, that would be a first._ “Moyashi,” interrupted Kanda, impatient and somewhat distracted by the light flush that dusted Walker’s cheeks.

Walker’s face sobered. “I wanted to apologize for the other day,” he said sincerely. “It was wrong and immature of me. I was being selfish. I'm sorry. Are we…” He plucked at his sleeve. “Are we still okay?” His grey eyes were wide and worried. It looked wrong, on his face.

“You dumbass,” Kanda said, after a moment of baffled speechlessness. As if Kanda hadn't been the one who pushed back instead of pushing him away. He stepped closer, watching the bob of Walker’s Adam’s apple. “What are you apologizing for?”

Walker’s brows furrowed. “What?” A dumbfounded pause. “Were you not listening to anything I just said, BaKanda?”

“Che. You really are clueless.”

 _Now or never_ , his more rational self murmured. Or perhaps it was his less rational self. Didn't fucking matter. Before he lost his composure, Kanda closed the distance between them and pinned Walker to the back of the door, welcoming the warmth.

“Hey -! Kanda, what…” Walker’s breath caught as his initial surprise became realization; his arms crept up behind Kanda and held him close, pressing hard as if Walker himself hadn’t even known how much he’d needed this. Their closeness made Kanda’s head spin.

Hovering over Walker, he traced patterns onto his lips with his gaze; Walker exhaled slowly, his eyes crinkling invitingly at the corners. Something nameless flourished in Kanda’s chest, like a flower in bloom; he bent his neck and captured Walker’s mouth, emphatic.

Walker arched upward into him, grinding their hips together; Kanda squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head to better move with Walker, lost in the heat and slide of his lips, the hot puffs of air that escaped from the corners of his mouth and flared nostrils.

“You really piss me off,” Kanda muttered against him, biting down on the flesh between his teeth. Walker inhaled sharply and concentrated on untying the red ribbon that held Kanda’s hair in place. It came in a cascade down his back and shoulders.

“Were you worried?” Walker teased between kisses, threading his fingers through strands of Kanda’s hair. A multi-layered question.

Kanda clicked his tongue before he used it to swipe across Walker’s upper lip. “Hardly,” he lied.

He kept Walker pinned to the door with his legs in the same manner that the other boy had used the other day, feeling Walker squirm against him, Kanda’s thigh brushing past a rising tent in his pants. Kanda took hold of Walker’s arms and then his hands, tugging at the white gloves that he always wore.

Walker flinched, drawing his cursed hand back to his chest, holding his breath as wide eyes roved over Kanda’s face. He must have been searching for evidence of disgust, something that echoed the distaste that Kanda had once voiced. Guilt gave a short sting to his gut - Kanda held on, wordlessly, sincerely, because the arm was just another part of him, and Kanda Yuu simply and badly _wanted_ Allen Walker. Walker gradually relaxed, reentering the small bubble they’d built for themselves. He claimed another kiss with a thoughtful hum.

Kanda entwined their fingers - unprepared for the gasp that tumbled from Walker’s lips or the curve of his spine as Kanda caressed the thick skin of his left hand. _Oh?_ With a self-satisfied smirk Kanda repeated the movement. Walker threw his head back with a sigh, exposing his throat - something Kanda was quick to ravish. He laid burning kisses along the line of his carotid artery, listening to the hitches in Walker’s breath, feeling the throb of his pulse.

“You _were_ worried,” Walker whispered, voice thin, face tilted toward the ceiling. Not quite a tease.

Kanda bit down on his jaw, refusing to comment. “You need to stop with the martyr shit,” he said instead. “The masks, the sacrifices.” _For his sake-_

Walker’s throat rumbled with a soft, sorrowful laugh. “You know I can’t do that.”

Kanda angrily reclaimed Walker’s lips, searing and forceful. “Yes you can, dumbass,” he growled, and bit down, then moved back to his neck, giving Walker the chance to speak. “You just don’t want to.”

Walker laughed again, less sadly this time. “You’re probably right. But it won’t change anything.”

 _Then at least let me stay by your side -_ “Typical,” he scoffed aloud, and accompanied it with another kiss. “And I’ll have to keep cleaning up your messes. Idiot.”

“No one’s making you,” Walker pointed out, voice laced with annoyance, disentangling their fingers so that he could kiss Kanda full-on, slipping his hands beneath the hem of Kanda’s sleeveless turtleneck.

“Like I’d let you go off alone,” Kanda said, with far less disdain than he’d intended.

Walker smiled, faintly, rejoining their mouths, his fingers mapping out paths along Kanda’s sides and chest. Kanda shuddered at his touch; his own hands were now free to work at the fastenings of Walker’s white button-down.

Walker lifted himself from the door so that Kanda could push his opened shirt from his shoulders; Kanda felt him shiver as he was exposed to the air. He settled his arms around Walker’s waist, holding him close. They broke apart only for air and for him to assist Walker in yanking Kanda’s black shirt over his head.

He inhaled at the heat as their bare chests met, so contrasted with the cool air of his room. He could feel Walker’s quickened heartbeat pound within his ribs; it was only slightly faster than Kanda’s own.

Walker’s hands roved, exploratory; dazed, it was all Kanda could do to press into him. He groaned as Walker finally decided to take hold of his hair, tugging at it insistently; his scalp smarted in the way he’d started to appreciate, the tremors snaking down his spine and curling around the base.

Walker led Kanda farther into the room, nudging him backwards; Kanda let him, breathless, a bit lost in how to react. Every sensation was something so _new_. 

Walker pushed him back onto the bed, then settled himself effortlessly on top of him, assertive, pinning his hips down with toned thighs. He grabbed onto his wrists and secured them above his head before Kanda could evade. Any half-hearted attempts Kanda made at escape resulted only in more friction between them, and it left Kanda panting and helpless. Walker only sat and watched him, with flushed cheeks and tempestuous eyes.

Grudgingly realizing that they were gaining no ground, Kanda let his attentions wander: there were scars that littered Walker’s chest; the lines where the cursed arm ended and where Walker’s human skin began were clean and black, as if they were nothing but tattoos; inky black arrows fanned outward from his shoulder. His eyes trekked back to find Walker’s.

“Moyashi…”

“It’s Allen,” Walker corrected immediately, and gave a roll of his hips against Kanda’s.

Kanda hiccuped on a gasp, already so sensitive to every movement Walker made; sparks erupted behind his eyes, and for a second he forgot how to breathe.

Walker’s face was close enough that Kanda could push up to claim a kiss, and he held it until Walker moved again, after which he found himself tossing his head back. Just as Kanda had done earlier, Walker made quick work of his throat. Kanda groaned, just a bit louder.

Walker bit into his neck as he ground down, and Kanda twitched, his breaths coming shallow and quick. “ _Moyashi_ ,” he breathed, just lucid enough to wish he wasn’t arching into the other boy’s touch as helplessly as he was.

Walker pressed into him harder, his grip steely. “I told you to call me Allen,” he reminded Kanda, and bit down more viciously to punctuate his reproach. A hungry trail of red and purple was mid-bloom from Kanda’s jaw to just below his collarbone; the marks were swallowed up by his healing seal almost as quickly as they appeared.

Kanda writhed, straining against Walker’s body, snarling weakly as he tried to be angry and couldn’t manage to will up the energy.

Walker simply gazed down at him from his proud position, rocking his hips and watching with soft eyes as Kanda bit his lip to keep from gasping. “You’re so beautiful, Kanda,” he murmured wonderingly, his grip on Kanda’s wrists slackening just slightly.

Kanda scowled. “Do you even think about the shit you say?” he said bitingly, even as heat settled in his abdomen at Walker’s words.

He tried to use Walker’s distraction to free himself from the other’s ridiculous grip, and partially lifted himself up.

Walker was lightning quick, reestablishing his dominance by tightening his fingers and splaying his other hand on Kanda’s chest. “Of course I do,” he answered calmly. “It’s something that I think about all the time.” He trailed his fingers over Kanda’s nipples and rolled his hips again, making Kanda throw his head back with a stifled moan. It gave him a good cover-up for the flustered blush that dusted his cheeks. His hips jerked upward involuntarily, and he heard Walker inhale sharply at the friction. He had only a moment to relish his victory before Walker descended on his lips mercilessly - at odds with the gentle hand that now caressed his jaw and cradled his skull. Walker tugged at his lower lip with his teeth, his hot breath ghosting across Kanda’s cheek; Kanda opened his mouth in a silent gasp.

He was distantly aware that he was willfully giving himself over to Allen Walker. Walker didn’t hesitate to take advantage of this, their teeth colliding as he drew his tongue over Kanda’s and across his lip. Kanda could swear his heart wrenched when they met and ached when they broke apart to breathe.

“Kanda…”

His name was returned to him in a whisper, blowing gingerly along the kiss-swollen hills of his lips, and he breathed it in, feeling like he owned that name in a way he hadn’t before. Through slitted eyes, all he could see was the face of possibly the most striking thing he had ever seen. His chest heaved, and with curled toes he pressed upward into him again, watching this angelic thing hang his head and moan softly, white hair obscuring his eyes.

“W-Walker…”

Walker lifted his head to meet his gaze, a miniscule furrow between his brows, and actually began to chuckle.

Kanda immediately twisted his face into a scowl. “Something funny?” he started to demand, pretending that he wasn’t breathless at the sight of him.

“No.” Walker rocked against Kanda, adequately distracting him from formulating a reply. The kiss that he pressed to Kanda’s mouth was sweet and imploring, and brief enough that once he broke away Kanda found himself chasing it. “ _Allen_ ,” he insisted, branding it to Kanda’s neck with a heated murmur, and kissed below his ear, across his jaw, rolled his hips again in a great tidal wave, and Kanda was lost in it.

“Allen,” Kanda panted, voice thick with desire. It unfurled from his tongue pleasantly, and the wondrous heaviness of Allen Walker on top of him kept him from thinking clearly. In his haze he blearily wondered why he hadn’t simply called him Allen from the start.

“ _Yes_ ,” Allen moaned as Kanda’s reward, the sound of it piercing him and settling directly into bloodstream. His pupils were dilated so widely that only small rings of stormy grey were visible, and it made Kanda swallow thickly.

Allen released his grip on Kanda’s wrists, letting him decide where to go, and complied without complaint when Kanda reversed their positions.

Kanda left Allen’s hands free. He took some time to drink in this sight, and Allen stared back up at him with invitingly warm eyes. With gentle fingers Kanda traced the countless scars that littered the pale chest, ranging from white and smooth to pink and puckered. Thinking about his own impossibly smooth skin, devoid of any trace of battle, Kanda bent to place kisses, almost reverent, on as many scars as he could, working his way down from Allen’s cheek to his navel. The latter writhed, grasping at the sheets, trying and failing to withhold the buck of his hips.

Attempting to regain control, Allen reached up to pull Kanda to him, seizing the base of his hair and wrenching a guttural groan from him. Reflexively Kanda jerked his hips down to meet Allen’s, his pants feeling oppressively tight, his pulse stuttering. “ _Allen_ ,” he moaned again, breathless, and Allen threw his head back with a deep sigh. Kanda trapped him between his arms and captured his lips, swallowing Allen’s gasp.

“Shit,” Allen swore when they broke apart, his face flushed, tented and straining against Kanda’s thigh. When he tried to lift himself up, Kanda pushed him back down on the bed, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. He took hold of Allen’s left arm, touch feather-light; the dark skin was thick and smooth, bearing no evidence, in its improved form, that it had ever been marred. Allen stiffened in response, then shuddered as Kanda dipped into the spaces between his sensitive fingers, his eyes fluttering closed. His breath hitched when Kanda pressed a heated kiss to his palm. “H-haaah… Fuck, _Kanda_ …”

Kanda savored each sound he drew from him, keeping one hand planted on Allen’s chest so that he could feel every heave of his lungs, the thrum of his heartbeat, the upward arch of his body. Hearing his name being spoken like this made him want to kiss Allen until their lips were raw, made the blood stir in his veins.

This time when he pushed back at Kanda, the latter relented; Allen successfully sat up, his eyes dark, making Kanda pause so that Allen could kiss him forcefully. Kanda was dizzy and drunk as he pressed, trembling, back into Allen. He felt him tugging at his belt, desperate and haphazard, now and then slipping his hands below Kanda’s belt line with questions between his fingers.

Kanda groaned, hips stuttering, settling his own hands on Allen’s waist.

“Are you sure?” he murmured against Allen’s lips, breathing heavily.

“Yeah,” Allen whispered, voice thick, pressing his chest to Kanda’s. He used one hand to fist at Kanda’s hair and the other to trace his hipbones. “Are you?”

“Heh. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Allen huffed out a laugh, then tightened his hold on Kanda’s hair and crushed a kiss to his gasping mouth. His other hand worked frenetically at the buttons of Kanda’s pants, and the combined sensations of Allen tugging at his hair and his nimble fingers fluttering between his thighs had Kanda seeing stars. In return he yanked impatiently at the fastenings on Allen’s trousers, single-minded until Allen broke the kiss, using both hands to slip Kanda’s pants and undergarments down past his hips. Kanda sighed as he was freed, and he shifted so that he could slide them completely off.

Allen’s gaze was fiery, burning Kanda everywhere his eyes roved. Kanda’s chest tightened, suddenly less certain of himself.

Allen didn’t give him enough time to be embarrassed. He leaned forward, one hand on the _Om_ tattoo and the other grasping at Kanda, grip solid, and the latter keened at the touch, tossing his head back as the noise settled into a moan low in his throat. He was slick already with precum, and Allen ran a finger across the slit to spread it; Kanda downright whimpered. His body was alight, reacting to Allen’s every touch, every movement.

“So beautiful, Kanda,” Allen said again, and Kanda bucked into his hand. He kissed Allen just to make him shut up, and he felt Allen smile against his lips.

After a minute of basking in the touch, he resumed his earlier duties of getting Allen’s pants off, breaking the kiss and nudging Allen’s hands away so that he could give him his full attention. Allen’s eyes were hungry and dark as he watched Kanda, and as Kanda lifted his gaze to meet his, all breath that remained in his lungs was gone in a rush. Allen’s cheeks were pink, his lips red and swollen, in contrast to the stark white hair that stuck in every direction and to his temples. The scar that stained the left side of his face was striking.

Something in Allen’s expression made Kanda’s world tilt on its axis. His fingers still working the buttons on Allen’s trousers, Kanda felt something hot and painful and dangerous rising in his chest; he stared at Allen and realized it was something he had felt before, once.

His hand brushed past the bulge in Allen’s pants as he pulled down the last of his vestments, and Allen groaned appreciatively. They were now both exposed - vulnerable in a way Kanda couldn’t remember ever being, and that thought coupled with the lovely, painful heat in his heart made him hesitate.

“Kanda,” Allen murmured, cradling his jaw with his left hand. “I’ve got you.”

Kanda snorted in a way that he hoped was derisive, but was cheated out of giving a snarky reply by Allen’s passionate kiss, the latter once more using Kanda’s hair as a distraction and an anchor.

Allen took both of them in his right hand, pressing ever closer to Kanda, and Kanda gave a half-sob at the friction. He forgot every worry he’d ever had. For a second he could have forgotten that they were exorcists. The only things grounding him in reality were their points of contact, as if Allen were the only thing that existed in the universe - and certainly, at the moment, he was the only thing that mattered.

Allen moaned into the kiss, and pulled harder at Kanda’s hair, snapping his hips and giving a quick stroke of his hand.

The whine that rose in his throat forced Kanda to break away from the kiss, burying his head in the junction at Allen’s collar to steady himself. He shuddered with uneven gasps, jaw slack, his hair falling carelessly over his shoulder. His hips stuttered forward into Allen’s hand, uncontrollably. Allen swore, loud and breathless.

“Ggh - Ahh, _fuck_ , Kanda…” Allen groaned when Kanda reached down to wrap around them, his hand overlapping Allen’s. His other hand held vice-like to Allen’s hip.

The small room was filled with the sounds of them, heady breaths and the slide of skin and the rustle of sheets. It was easy to get lost in.

Kanda squeezed his eyes closed, mindlessly thrusting against Allen as they stroked together, a series of moans and sighs escaping his lips. Allen oscillated between running his fingers through Kanda’s hair and gripping it tight.

“Haaah - Allen -”

Beneath his fingers Kanda could feel Allen’s rapid, throbbing pulse, and it matched his own; his abdominal muscles tightened and jumped as behind his eyelids his world was washed over in white. Allen’s breath was quick and ragged beside his ear, and the hot puffs swept across Kanda’s neck and back, raising goosebumps as they went. Kanda jerked, movements sharp, feeling the hot rush of blood and the flight of cohesive thought. He held tight.

“ _Allen_ ,” he managed, before he was swept up in the crest; he bit into Allen’s shoulder hard enough to taste copper to keep from crying out as he came. Tears prickled the far corners of his eyes. He rode his climax, head spinning dizzily as he shuddered in Allen’s grasp. He wasn’t so naive to think he had touched Heaven - but maybe, perhaps, this was as close as he would get. Warm ribbons painted his quaking stomach; he was so sensitive it almost hurt.

“Kanda,” Allen was panting desperately as he came down from his high. “Shit - _please, Kanda_ -” His pace was rough and disjointed, spasming in his and Kanda’s hands, unable to tip himself over the edge.

Kanda was unmoving for just a moment. He slid a hand up the back of Allen’s neck to cradle his head, then laid languid kisses along the planes of his throat and jaw. “Allen,” he murmured against his skin, like a prayer with each kiss. “Allen. Allen.”

Allen keened, his pulse jumping beneath Kanda’s lips. Kanda moved to his mouth, kissing him feverishly, and Allen pressed into it like he was starving. Gently Kanda nudged Allen’s hand away, encouraging him to wrap his arms behind Kanda’s neck; he took hold of Allen fully, coaxing him, and Allen sobbed into the kiss. When Kanda began to stroke, Allen broke away so that a string of sighs and expletives could fall freely, resting his forehead against Kanda’s.

Kanda watched Allen intently, memorizing the furrows between his brows, the curves of his lips and the teeth that bit them, the scars on his chest. He ignored the pleasant weariness that had settled into his bones.

Allen was scrabbling for purchase on Kanda’s shoulders, his nails digging into his skin and leaving behind quick, stinging welts. “Shit… Shit, Kanda, fuck, _please_ …” Tremors visibly ran through his arms; he thrust up into Kanda’s hand with abandon, breaths ragged. " _Kan_..."

Kanda gave an experimental twist or two, listening to the catch in Allen’s throat when he thumbed his slit, carding softly through his damp white hair at the same time. He moved to again kiss along Allen's jaw, mouth at his neck; Allen moved with him, deferential.

"Kan -  _ah_ -"

Finally Allen tensed, growing still and pausing his onslaught of now-unintelligible murmurs; Kanda held him as he came with a soft, shaky sigh. He sagged against Kanda, trembling, his arms now draped around him limply, and pressed a kiss to Kanda’s throat on top of the angrily puce bite marks, his cheek, his lips. Kanda continued to stroke through Allen’s hair absentmindedly.

Allen hummed like he wanted to say something, but he kept it to himself. Kanda didn’t bother prompting him.

* * *

 

Once he’d recovered his breath, Allen pulled away from their embrace, and Kanda was immediately made all too aware of the unseemly mess that they had made. The room smelled of sweat and sex and _Allen_. He lifted himself from the bed on unsteady legs, determined to find a towel of some kind.

He was sifting through his meager store of linens when he heard Allen chuckle, and then dissolve into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Kanda demanded, less waspish than he would have ordinarily liked.

“Us,” Allen said. “Look at us.” Smile lopsided, he pointed at Kanda’s scratches and hickeys, and at the giant bite mark on his own shoulder.

Kanda followed his gaze, and they watched as smooth, unblemished skin gradually replaced the markings Allen left.

Allen pouted. “No fair,” he complained, inspecting his own decorations with slight dismay. Kanda smirked, refusing to acknowledge the slight regret that stirred as the last evidence of bruising faded from his body.

He retrieved a towel and a new blanket and made his way back to the thoroughly rumpled bed, under Allen’s watchful, if sleepy, scrutiny. Something nameless about the casual atmosphere made Kanda’s heart lurch.

Allen shifted just enough to allow Kanda to pull the dirty sheets away, and kept eyeing him carefully as Kanda began to clean himself. His gaze burned as Kanda reached out, unthinking, to wipe clean Allen’s skin as well, only stretching out so that Kanda could better reach him. There was a weight to his attention that hadn’t been there before, something unspoken and yet not needing to be said.

Kanda was fairly certain he was blushing, which was ridiculous.

Then Allen fell back onto the bed with a relieved sigh, smiling again, eyes closed as he relaxed. Kanda rolled his eyes, turning to toss the towel into a random corner to be dealt with later.

“Alright, Moyashi, out -”

He paused as he turned back to Allen, already met with soft snores and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. How in the hell was he - whatever. “Che. Dumbass.”

He tossed the clean blanket over Allen’s naked body, hating how angelic the other boy looked: hair disheveled, white lashes soft against his cheeks, pink lips upturned.

“Move over, idiot,” he said, with embarrassing fondness, to Allen’s sleeping form, shoving him aside so that he could crawl under the covers next to him.

Rapidly heeding the siren call of sleep, Kanda watched Allen for only a few moments more. He swept aside a few white locks from his face, and pretended like curling up beside him - around him - wasn’t the same as signing his own surrender.

**Author's Note:**

> ...it's kylen's fault
> 
> I'll probably continue along this narrative in part 4 of Mars.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading


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